The secret in the wind
by Lady Rosemary
Summary: A war hero and an ex Death Eater. A broken man and a woman on the run. He lost his twin, she lost her family. Now they need to collaborate for survival. There is just one thing in the way. They hate each other. Now they're neighbors...
1. Prologue

Weasleys Wizard Wheezes looked like a ghost town. The snow was covering the ground outside like a blanket and cast a pale light in the already dark joke shop. It was past two in the morning and not a soul was out and about. No one was stupid enough. Not after the big headlines in the newspaper this morning. Someone was killing Voldemorts ex followers, but not just any followers. Someone was murdering ex Death Eaters who had turned to Harry Potters side under the war. No one know who the killer or killers were but they had already killed two families. After Voldemort was killed, the Death Eater community hade erupted into chaos. No one trusted anyone. Some lied to save their necks, some admitted everything and some tried to flee. But their were those who tried to do the right thing and changed side. Many of them died in the war but those who survived surved their punishment in hope to redemption.

They had lived happily in the shadows, were they knew their families were safe. Until now.

And this was the reason why George Weasley was awake at two o'clock in the morning. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead as he sat on the shop counter. He had changed into more comfortable clothes that kept him warm in the cold shop. He had just put on a blue knitted turtleneck over his brown dress pants he wore for work. His hands were cold. He tried rubbing them together to get the blood circulation going again, at last he put them under his armpits.

He was wating for a delivery. Or to be more specific, he was wating for Harry and Ron to arive with an ex Death Eater.

George was furious. Just before he was suppose to close the shop, Harry popped in with an order more then a request. Apparently the parents had been killed but the children had escaped and now they had to be put to safety.

In other words, George was getting a new neighbor.

All of a sudan there was a smal clap and tree figures in dark cloaks stood right infront of George. Both Ron and Harry removed their hoods and gave George weary smiles. They to looked as if they hadn't had a decent night of sleep for ages. Both had dark circles around their eyes and their skin had lost its natural glow.

The aurors had been working night and day to catch the last Death Eaters as they tried to help all the people who were targeted. That meant removing them from their homes to new locations, cut of from society. They had to disappear.

The third companion looked as if they would fall to the ground at any second. They were swaying on the spot and could barely keep their head up. They lifted their hands and pulled the hood down. Their stood a small woman with a round but swollen face, right above her left eye she had a gash that had stopped bleading. Her brown hair fell around her face and looked burnt. George could see that she used to have longe hair but now big parts was missing at her tempel. The room was filled with a foul odor. It smelt like blood and burnt flesh. George tried to look if the woman had any burn marks but couldn't see anything since she had that big cloak that cover her entire body.

Her big brown eyes looked anxiously around the shop, as if she was looking for someone.

"George, meet Darcy Whitefield. Darcy, this is George Weasley." Said Ron and put down the dark green suitcase he had been holding. Darcy and George just looked at each other, both thinking of the same thing.

 _I must be cursed to be stuck with you._

She could see the hate in his eyes and he could see the disgust in hers.

A war hero and a ex Death Eater.

* * *

Hi!

Thank you for reading the prolog to my story, hope you liked it. If you decide you want to continue reading this their are a few things you need to know.

I. I don't own any characters except my oc:s and you know that. It's just a fanfic.

II. I'm dyslectic and swedish so english is not the easiest thing for me. Be patient and if you see any spelling misstakes or incorrect grammer please contact me so I can change it and learn.

III. I'm looking for a Beta reader if someone is intrested. You can contact me if this tickles your interesr.


	2. Chapter 1

_Eight hours ago outside of York, England._

The wind was picking up and the windows at the Whitefield mansion were rattling. It was a old house that had been past down through generations. The mansion was built in brown bricks with a dark green roof and a enormous garden that was mostly forest. The snow lay heavy and untouched. Except for the fotprints leading away from the mansion. Darcy stood in the middle of a feild a few kilometers from her parents home. She was staying with them over christmas, which led to some conflicts between her mother and father. Darcy had never been able to handle when others fought, least of all when she was in the fight. She would mush rather ignore it then risk getting stressed and sad over an argument.

She looked up at the sky. Millions of bright stars looked down on her as she looked at them and for the first time in three years she felt inner peace. She thought of her family, her calm and funny mother, her eccentric father and her sweet little brother who soon would turn seven.

She felt lucky that no one she really loved has died in the war. Darcy could still remember the shame she felt when she stood by Voldemorts side looking back at the people she secretly respected. She had reached for her fathers hand and felt his hand tremble. As they made eye contact she realised that he regretted everything too. In the middle of the war she had looked for professor McGonagall. She had found the older woman near the great hall. Darcy explained, with tears streaming from her eyes, how she and her family regretted everything they had done. How they had only followed the dark lord becuse her mothers brother, Antonin Dolohov, had convinced them to it. She had pleaded to McGonagall to help her save her family. She would do anything if only her parent survived. McGonagall had pitied the young devastated woman and told her that she would see what she could do. In the end, both Mr. and Mrs. Whitefield had stayed in the great hall helping as many injured as they could since they both were quite skilled healers.

Darcy wasn't proud of herself and she doubted she would ever be. She despised the arrogant little girl she had been, blindly following her uncle who she adored at the time. She had been proud of being a pure-blood and a slytherin, she'd had all the right friends and the right status. She thought she had been at the top of the world.

In the middle of her thought process she heard an explosion behind her. As she turned around the cold air seeped into her very soul. The house was on fire. Not a small fire in one room. No, the whole house was burning with flames that reached for the heavens. With her wand ready she apparaited to the front door and ran in.

"Mom?! Dad?!" She screamed and ran to the library where she had left them. As she got there she couldn't go in nor see anything because of the fire. She tried to put them out but nothing happend. This was a fire created by powerful magic. Dark magic. If her soul hadn't left her body yet she could feel it leave her now as she made eye contact with a man standing in the middle of the flames. And on the floor lay her parents dead bodies.

The man laughed and disappeared as the flames grew taller.

"Darcy!" A scream could be heard from upstairs. It was her little brother Michael. Darcy ran up the stairs as she tried not to inhale to much smoke. Her eyes was watering as she sourced for her little brother.

"Michael! Where are you?!"

"I'm over here."

She found her brother under the grand piano with their cat, Morgana.

"I got you." She said as she picked the boy and cat up. Darcy was extremely glad that Morgana had been with Michael when she found them. It would break the boy's heart if the gray cat would die.

As she ran down the stairs a piece from the ceiling fell down, blocking the front door. She let out a frightened scream, trying to cover her brother from the flames right in front of them. Darcy lifted her wand and coughed up:

"Reductor!"

Everything in their way pulverized and made a clear way to safety. Darcy ran as far away from the burning house as possible. White spots started to appear infront of her vision. She soon stumbled and fell into the soft snow. She could hear her brother calling her name and shaking her shoulder, trying to wake her as she lost consciousness.

* * *

The flat was dusty and small. You could see that no one had lived there in ages. When Darcy had opened the front door, the hinges had squeaked so loudly it would probably wake the dead.

They stepped into a tiny hall that had clothes hangers to their right and a bigger room to their left. As they walked into the flat Darcy realized there was a lot to be done if she would stay there for Merlin knows how long.

The ceiling was high and the wallpapers were light blue with small white flowers decorating them.

The kitchen was shoved into the corner with only one counter, everything was in a dreadful salmon pink color. Even the refrigerator was pink. In the middle of the room stood a round small table with two chairs and at the end of the room was a smal window that barely let any light in. The view wasn't something to brag about either. The only thing you could see was a brown brick wall. Under the window stood a large mint green sofa that looked as if it had seen better days. The bedroom wasn't any better, but the bed was a queen size bed which was always nice. Beside the bed stood a small bookshelf and at the end of the bed stood a big koffert.

To the left of them was the bathroom. It was a small room with a toilet, sink and a cramped shower.

"It'll do." Said Darcy and put her suitcase on the bed. Harry, who was the only one who had followed her in to the flat, nodded. He inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the conversation he know she wouldn't like.

"Before I go, there are somethings you need to know. You are not allowed to leave this building. You can leave the flat, just not the building-"

"So I'm not allowed to go outside? Not once?"

"No, not until we catch the killers. The window is enchanted so when people look in the only thing they will see are boxes, but you can't open the window. We can't risk anyone seeing you.

"I would also advise you to wear this at all times." He said, giving her what looked like a coin, "It'll work a lot like a tracker. If you leave this building it will activate and we'll know exactly were you are."

Darcy just stared at the bronze coin. She couldn't shake of the feeling that she was a prisoner, even if it was for her own good.

"Can you tell me were you put my brother?" As soon as the aurors had made sure that Darcy and Michael were safe they had split them up to be put at different safe houses.

"No. I can assure you that he is safe."

* * *

As Harry walked down the stairs to the shop he could hear angry voices.

"You're asking me to babysit her." Said George looking down at Ron who were rubbing his temples.

"For the last time, no we don't! We're just asking you to make sure that she doesn't do anything stupid."

"Babysitting."

"Bloody hell, just do what we say!" Ron looked over at Harry, "how is she?"

"Fantastic. She's just laying in bed, refusing to talk." Said Harry sarcastically.

"Fucking great."

* * *

George lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling. He looked at the old chandelier that missed a few crystals and at all the spider web. He really needed to clean his flat.

As he lay there, his thoughts drifted towards the woman at the apartment next door. The walls were so thin that he could hear her cry in the other room. He wondered if this was the first time she had experienced great loss.

As she continued to cry, he rolled over, pressing a pillow to his ears, blocking out the sound.


	3. Chapter 2

There was a fly on the wall and Darcy had been staring at it for hours. It just walked wherever it wanted not knowing that the woman in the bed had been plotting its death for over an hour now. _Little bastard_ , she thought. How she wished she didn't have a care in the world, just like that little fly. If only life could be as simple, but then again, life would probably not be as interesting if it was simpler.

Life has its ups and downs. People are born everyday, naked and screaming, into a big cold world where only a handful of people would ever certainly care for you, and then we die. Cold and alone, most likely forgotten and abandoned by the ones you love. No, Darcy hadn't a very optimistic view of life. She hadn't had in a long time. She blamed the world for taking away her family, but mostly, she blamed herself. Why did she survive when her parents died? Why was she the one still breathing when her parents deserved to live more than she did? Her sweet and loving parent. How could she continue without them? They were the rock she leaned on in this storm called existence, they were her comfort and shelter. When the world had thrown its rocks at her, her parents had always been there. Ready with kind words and warm hugs. Now she had no one.

She only had Michael and the aurors had taken him away from her. So she truly was completely alone. Even though she had cried herself to sleep and felt like she lost the ability to cry ever again, new tears started to role down her swollen cheeks. How was she supposed to take care for her little brother? Money wouldn't be an issue, but Darcy had no clue how to raise a child. Sure, he was her brother but now Darcy had to become his mother figure too and this frightened her.

With great effort she sat up and looked at the offending fly as it flew away. She left the bed even though she feelt like she could sleep for a hundred years and still be tired. Her body felt like it had turned into lead. Chains shackled to her with heavy stones at the ends, and in her mind she could hear the chains rattle, reminding her that she was a prisoner.

She dragged her feet behind her as she made her way to her small bathroom. After she had done her business and she was washing her hands, she was foolish enough to look at her own reflection in the mirror. A ghostly pale woman looked back at her with swollen cheeks and healing wounds. Her eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles made her face look grimmer. She truly looked like the Death Eater she had been. A horrendous monster in human skin. The stuff kids was scared of in the night.

She wondered, if Michael would be scared of her if he saw her like this.

Her hair looked like a rats nest. All tangled, dirty and burnt. She once had had long brown hair down to her lower back, but now it ended at her shoulders since most of it had been caught on fire. Darcy couldn't stand it, it was just another reminder that she had failed to keap her family safe. So she did the only thing she could think of.

She cut it.

Pieces of hair feel down to the floor. First she just cut of the burnt pieces, but when she feelt how satisfying it was she cut of more and more. She let out bits of her anger on her hair. All the frustration and despair, not ending until she cut herself in the ear. Only then did she drop the scissor. As she held a towl to her bleading ear she studied herself again. Her hair was pixie short but flatterd her features. She looked younger and more alive, her brown eyes held a tiny spark in them that had been lost for years. As soon as it had arrived, the spark disappeard. Hidden behinde thouse cold, dead eyes of her. Cuting her hair had only been a temporary fix to all her problems. She had let her anger control her and even if it had feelt fantastic to let some of it out she know that it could only lead to bad things. Her mother had always told her that letting your emotions run wild would only lead to weakness, and when the dark lord had risen again she had had to be strong.

" _Put a lock on your heart. Don't let your feelings out and never let anyone use them against you."_ This was what Mrs. Whitefield had said to Darcy since she was a child. Her mother had repeated the same words so many times that they now where almost inprinted on the insides of Darcys eyelids. Her darling mother. So kind jet absent. A woman rueld by her mind. That didn't mean that Mrs. Whitefield didn't show her children that she loved them. No, she had showered them with love. Mrs. Whitefield, like Darcy, had just been a very sceptical person when it came to people outside of the family. For her, their where no one you could truly trust except for family.

Out of nowhere, Darcy heard someone knock on the door and a cold sensation ran through her veins. Her body froze as she looked with big eyes at the door to her bedroom. Muscles protesting as she forced her body to move. She moved out to the beadroom, picking up her dark brown wand that lay on her bead. Her knuckles turning white as she gripped it thightly.

* * *

George looked at the mounten of brown boxes before him. He had been opening them all morning, filling up the stock with the new goods. He was hungry, his back hurt and his hands were sore. In other words, George was irritated beyond words.

"Merlin, you're pale," Said a teasing voice behind him, "have you even heard of sunlight? You know, that big bright orb in the sky that gives us the very important vitamine D?"

George could hear the smirk on the persons face as he turned. Leaning on the doorpost stood Lee Jordan with a big grin on his face.

"You look like you're dying." If Lee hadn't been right, George would probably had punched him. He may even punched him just for the sake of it, but, alas, Lee was right. The annoying thing was that George agreed. He hadn't gone outside for ages and he was starting to feel the consequences. He was more tired than usual. His shoulders, arms and hips had started to hurt. He was also losing strength rapidly which was troublesome.

"I'm fine." Said George who had just put away the last of the Bombtastic Bombs.

"I don't know man. When was the last time you ate?"

"Ate? Breakfast I guess... Oh shit!"

Lee just looked at his friend as he ran past him up the stairs to his apartment, who ran so fast that it seemed like he had the devil himself chasing after him. Not wanting to deal with any more of Georges weird shit, Lee turned around and returned to the busy shop.

* * *

This is where Darcy and George now found themselves at. Darcy with her wand pointing at a bewildered George who held a plate with two cheese sandwiches in his hand. Darcy looked with abhorrence at Georges purple dress pants and west that he wore with a orange shirt. She had always been proud about her sense of fashion and had often looked through her mothers fashion magazines, but George style was something else. To her it looked horrendous and it even left a bad taste in her mouth. George looked at the smaller woman standing in the doorway. The first thing he noticed was her hair. It was so much shorter and made her face appear larger. She was no longer covered in dirt and soot, yet she still looked worn out.

Darcy slowly lowered her wand but didn't lower her guard and George noticed right away.

"Would you stop it? I mean you no harm."

"I don't know that."

Choosing to ignore her last comment, George signed and handed her the sandwiches.

"Here, I brought food."

"Oh, how nice. You remebered that I don't have any food in my refrigerator … or that it works for that matter." She said, her tone as cold as the winds of Artica.

"I'm not your housekeeper! I have a business I need to take care of." Even if George had feelt a tiny bit compassion for the lonely woman it disappeard as quickly as it came.

"Oh, yes. That joke that you call a business. It's good to hear that you got your priorities straight." She took the plate and then slammed the door in his face. George looked at the door with big round eyes that soon filled with rage. He marched down the hall and thundered down the stairs.

What he didn't know was that behind the door, Darcy had sunk to the floor. Her whole body was shaking like an aspen leaf. She had been so scared. Even if her gut feeling told her she could trust George Weasley, people were never what they seemed, she knew that. George didn't want her there, she knew that. She didn't belong anywhere, she knew that.

Darcy looked at the cheese sandwiches on the plate. They looked really tasty and she was so hungry. She didn't care about that small voice at the back of her head that told her that George may have poisoned her food as she took a big bite.

* * *

Someone asked me why I chose to write in english instead of swedish. The answer to that question is that I just want to be better at writing in english. I do this mostly for my self.


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